


One Call Away

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: You Know Me So Well [1]
Category: The Rookie (TV 2018)
Genre: A little angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feels, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 09:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24468460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: "So if you ever want to talk, or get a drink, or even just need someone to dogsit Kojo, I'm right here. You know my number." (Set four months after the season 2 finale)
Relationships: Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen
Series: You Know Me So Well [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787263
Comments: 43
Kudos: 368





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Tumblr for this. Title from the song of the same name.

Tim made sergeant three months after he finished training Lucy.

The spot was at Hollywood this time, not helped by any favors but won with the overwhelming support of the men and women who would be serving with him. Lucy was so proud of him she could burst, though she restrained herself from saying so anywhere near Tim's new boot. Stearns was practically doing cartwheels at the thought of not having to spend the rest of the year with Tim as his T.O., and Lucy hadn't bothered telling him how much he was missing out on. He wouldn't have understood, anyway.

(And maybe she was annoyed with Stearns to start with, that he was riding around in her spot and didn't even seem to _appreciate_ it. And maybe she would be more annoyed with him, if it hadn't turned out that Tim Bradford didn't always finish what he started.

He'd stayed for her, though.)

She and Angela took the lead on planning the congratulations/goodbye party, mostly because they all knew he wouldn't want one and they were the two deemed most likely to make him enjoy it anyway. It was a small thing, just at their spot, though enough of the squad showed up that seating was at a premium. Sgt. Grey made a speech. Tim even smiled a few times. It was a good night.

(And if her throat got tight a few times, well, she made sure no one else noticed.)

Of course, this was Tim they were talking about, so he inevitably tried to slip away early. Lucy had been watching for it, following him out into the relative privacy of the parking lot. "You forgot something, Sgt. Bradford."

He turned around at the sound of her voice, raising an amused eyebrow. "You need your bar tab paid again?"

"Hey, you're the one who opened the envelope." She let herself just watch him for a moment, already far too familiar with the ache of missing him. She hadn't seen nearly enough of him over the last few months, not wanting to blow his cover as a terrifying authority figure, but at least she'd had a little time with him.

Not enough, though. And now...

Her smile faded as she took a deep breath and crossed the rest of the distance between them, handing him the small, folded piece of paper she'd been carrying around in her pocket the last two days. She didn't even know if he remembered, but she'd made damn sure it wasn't yellow. "But no. I was talking about this."

He hesitated before taking it, uncertain in a way he almost never was. He slowly opened it, just looking at it for a long moment before meeting her eyes. "I already have your number," he said quietly.

"For professional reasons, which we both know means you won't use it for anything else. So this is me giving it to you again, as a friend." Her chest tightened. "Which even you stopped trying to deny we are, so don't you dare think about starting up again now."

A smile flickered, but there was something heavy in his eyes she couldn't quite read. "A friend, huh?"

"Yeah." Lucy swallowed, trying to pretend her insides weren't shakier than they'd ever been on the job. "So if you ever want to talk, or get a drink, or even just need someone to dogsit Kojo, I'm right here." She gestured to the paper in his hand. "You know my number."

Now his expression had that cracked-open look that always made her chest hurt. He was clearly struggling for something to say, and the idea of what he might come up with was suddenly more than she could handle at the moment. There were so many ways to tell her no, but even the gentlest one would cut things off between them for good.

Lucy took another deep breath. "So that's it." She turned around as she spoke, already heading for the relative safety of the food trucks. "Good luck at Hollywood, and I'll make sure the new T.O. terrifies Stearns appropriately."

She hadn't made it very far when the sound of Tim's voice froze her in place. "Lucy."

No matter how little she wanted to hear it, she couldn't stop herself from turning. "Yeah?"

Her heart stopped when she saw the look on his face, so much like it had been by her hospital bed. "You were the best partner I ever had." His voice was thick. "No question."

With that, he turned and walked away. She watched him go, trying to pretend her eyes weren't filling with tears.

000

He didn't call.

Tim wanted to, a hell of a lot more than he should have. He'd missed her every day since she'd stopped being his rookie, but somehow it hadn't been enough to prepare him for not having her around at all. He settled into his new job well enough, helped by his old command experience and familiarity with the men and women he worked with, but he'd gotten too used to having someone watching his back. He'd gotten too used to having _her_ , even if it was just on the job.

But too much attention from a random sergeant wouldn't be good for Lucy. She had the chance to be something truly great, and he wouldn't get in the way of that just because she'd left a hole inside him.

That resolve lasted almost six months. Then they lost one of the squad, a good, dedicated officer who died protecting a civilian during a shootout. He'd be lauded as a hero, but that didn't do much for the wife and two kids who weren't ever going to see him again. The oldest had just about finished her first year of college.

After he'd reached out to Foster's family and helped make sure the case against the shooter was air tight, he ignored his own advice and went home. The situation spun endlessly around in his head, and maybe if he stared at it long enough he'd realize what he could have done to keep this from happening.

By 11, he was staring at her number in his phone's contacts list. She was still listed as Officer Chen, though it had been a long time since she'd been that in his head, and his finger hovered over the "call" button like an alcoholic staring at a bottle of whiskey. He hadn't once considered calling Rachel, even earlier when the time difference between L.A. and New York wouldn't have made it impossible, but he'd been heading toward this moment the entire damn day.

Eventually, his thumb fell. He pressed the phone against his ear, half hoping she wouldn't pick up, but it wasn't long before the call connected and her voice echoed in his ear. "Tim?"

He closed his eyes, chest squeezing tight. He could hear the sounds of laughter in the background, a group of people unwinding out on the town, and he hated himself just a little bit more. "Never mind. I shouldn't have—"

"Tim Bradford, don't you _dare_ hang up that phone." The snap of the order, along with the edge of emotion behind it, stilled his hand faster than anything else could have. The background noise faded as she found a quieter corner, and when she spoke again her voice had gone almost painfully gentle. "We all heard about Foster. I'm sorry." Another silence, heavier this time. "And I'm only saying this because I know exactly what you're thinking, but it wasn't your fault. This is what we all sign up for."

Tim opened his eyes again, letting out an unsteady breath. He didn't believe her, not really – he should have done _something_ – but the tightness in his chest still eased a little. "Just talk to me. Please." He swallowed. "I don't care about what."

He heard her just breathing for a moment, and even that was almost enough. "You're going to regret saying that," she said finally, and he could practically hear the smile in her voice. "Jackson is apparently the last person in the world to discover 'Downton Abbey,' which means he's forcing us all through it. I know so much more about these people than I ever wanted to, and you're going to hear all of it."

Tim was almost surprised to find his own lips curving upward. "Bring it."

She laughed, launching into a detailed explanation, and he let the sound of her voice carry him away.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucy tried desperately to restrain herself from calling Tim too much, not wanting him to regret the implicit permission he’d given her by finally using the number. But she spent too much of her day wanting to talk to him, and now that she had a way to actually do that the results were inevitable. She was respectful of his work hours, as she would expect anyone else to be respectful of hers, but there was at least once a day when she found herself staring down at his name in her phone.

As the days passed, she found herself hesitating less and less often. Because for every time she’d stopped herself from calling him, his name would pop up in her incoming calls not more than an hour later. They had to be careful about sharing case information, but half the time they didn’t even end up talking about work.

Of course, that didn’t always mean it was a fun conversation. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to _do_.” Lucy thunked her head against her locker door, phone pressed to her ear. “I know Mom was trying to help with whatever she said to Dad, but it’s almost worse now than when we were openly fighting about it. Conversations that should be completely normal are suddenly full of landmines, and his voice will get weird and he’ll suddenly give me this disappointed look.” Her eyes stung. “And I can’t even _talk_ to him about whatever it is, because he just gives me the silent treatment until Mom finally moves the conversation to another topic.”

On the other end of the phone, Tim sighed. “You know I’m not the person to talk to when it comes to dealing with fathers.”

She closed her eyes. “I know.” They hadn’t spoken about his comment about his father “tuning him up on the regular," but she got the distinct sense that most people didn’t even know that much. “But Jackson has an entirely _different_ set of issues with his father and keeps trying to give me advice better suited to that, Rachel keeps offering counseling options, Nolan has been _completely_ useless, and I absolutely cannot try to go to Angela with dad issues.” 

There was one notable name missing from that list, but she just… she couldn’t talk about this with Emmett. She’d even cancelled on the date they’d had planned for tonight, because the thought of seeing his bright, cheerful face right now made her want to punch him a little and that was entirely unfair to Emmett. It had seemed so much easier to fake a headache rather than risk it.

Thankfully, Tim didn’t mention the absence. “Well, that’s clearly the problem. You don’t need advice, or whatever it is Nolan thinks he’s doing. You need a sounding board while you work it out in your own head.”

Lucy opened her eyes again, something inside her unwinding at hearing it laid out so simply. She wasn’t mad at anyone else – she knew they were just trying to help – but this was what she’d been waiting for. This understanding.

He knew her so well.

She let out a breath, deliberately lightening her voice to try and hide the new unsteadiness in it. “And you’re at least slightly better than a silent cell phone.”

“Slightly.” She could hear the smile in his voice, but after that he went silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice had turned thoughtful. “You know who’d be even better, though? Kojo.”

Lucy’s lips curved. “Then put him on the phone.”

“Sadly, he’s waiting at a neighbor’s house for me to come home. Besides, he’s more of a paws-on listener.” He paused again, but there was something different about this one. “Any plans for tonight?”

Lucy lost her breath. “No,” she said finally, slowly lifting her head away from the locker. Her voice was absolutely careful, like she might detonate a bomb if she said the wrong thing. “I was just going to head home.”

Another hesitation, but she could read it now. “Well, if you’re looking for some of that Kojo sounding-board action, you could head over to my house instead. I’ve been working enough overtime lately the Captain would probably be thrilled if I headed out now, and I could pick up dinner from that Thai place you like.” The words came out in a rush, the anxiety in them clear if you knew Tim well enough. “I may be back-up sounding board to a dog, but I can at least do that much.”

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut. _This is not a date_ , she told herself fiercely. Tim was just being a good friend, and nervous about it because he was setting himself up for a whole evening talking about emotions. If she started letting her imagination run away with her ( _you mean your heart_ , something inside her whispered) she’d run the risk of losing a friendship that meant far, far too much to her. She pushed a lot more than she probably should, as far as Tim was concerned, but this was one area where she absolutely couldn’t. _This is NOT a date._

No matter what it was, though, her answer was still the same. She’d started nodding before she realized she was doing it, even though that was not at all a useful response at the moment. “Sounds like a plan.” She swallowed, rubbing her fingers across her lips. “You need me to bring beer?”

He let out a breath. “I have beer.” The relief in his voice made her chest clench. “You still have my address?”

“I do.” She breathed deep and slow, trying hard to steady herself. It did nothing, however, to dim the flare of light inside her. “See you soon.”

She could practically feel his smile. “See you soon.”

000

Once they started spending time together, it was impossible to go back to just phone calls.

Not that they stopped the calls, or the texts – they rarely got the chance to see each other more than once or twice a week, but they didn’t go a day without speaking to each other. But having her _there_ was a feeling even the most intense phone conversation couldn’t match, and though he was careful not to interfere in her life he sacrificed his own free time in a heartbeat if it meant being with her. When Rachel finally broke it off with him, more the end of a long, slow waning than any kind of wrenching loss, it just meant he had more free time to hand over.

When things got really busy, or their shifts ended too far out of sync, he had to reach harder for useful free time than was probably smart. That night, it meant he’d fallen asleep on Lucy’s couch in the middle of the movie, a semi-truck exploding into an oddly boring fireball on the screen in front of him. Even Lucy’s warmth, safely a few feet away on the opposite side of the couch, wasn’t enough to override the rest he’d been stealing from his body the last few nights.

No, that didn’t happen until later, when he woke up to a darkened TV and an electric feeling sliding across his nerve endings. He was instantly alert, hunting for an explanation, until he realized he could hear someone singing quietly.

A heartbeat later, he realized it was Lucy.

Carefully, he shifted his head just enough that he could watch her. She was in the kitchen area cleaning up, eyes half closed and radiating enough light to blind a man if he wasn’t careful. The song was “Dream a Little Dream of Me,” and though he’d never really liked the song it was clearly just because he’d never heard Lucy sing it. Her voice was low and rich, dancing through him, and when her lips curved upward in a contented little smile she was honestly so beautiful he couldn’t breathe.

Not that he needed to, really, if it meant he could watch her like this just a little bit longer.

Eventually, though, the spell was broken. She turned at just the right angle to catch his eyes, stopping abruptly with a faintly embarrassed expression. “Sorry.” She winced a little. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He straightened, still not able to take his eyes off her. “But you shouldn’t apologize for singing. You’re amazing.” There was split second of hesitation as he realized that wasn’t at all a safe place to end the sentence. “At singing, I mean.” He cleared his throat, the embarrassed one now. “I didn’t even realize I liked that song.”

Lucy went still, eyes widening a little as if she’d just realized something. “I wasn’t even really thinking about what I was singing.” She looked down at the counter for a moment, then back up at him. “It used to be one of my favorite songs as a kid, and was kind of my ‘happy’ song for a long time. But I haven’t really sung it since…” The sentence trailed off, and after a few beats she just shook her head a little. “Since.”

Tim’s chest tightened at the memory of what she hadn’t said. “Well, I’m glad you felt like singing it now.”

She smiled at that, though her eyes were a little sad. “Must be something about the company.” Then the sadness disappeared, smile widening back into sunlight as she gestured to the freezer. “You fell asleep before I could break out the Girl Scout cookies. You’ll have to fight me for the Samoas, but I hid two whole boxes of Tagalongs from Sterling just for you.”

Watching her, he was hit with a sense of “home” so sharp and profound that it rocked him back on his heels. He hadn’t felt anything like it since years before his marriage to Isabel had ended, and feeling it now seemed both inevitable and almost unforgivably dangerous.

In desperation, he leapt for the last topic he’d normally bring up. “I’m amazed Emmett didn’t try to fight me for them.”

Her expression closed off a little, and she busied herself once again with something on the counter. “He might have wanted to, but he doesn’t have the chance. Now that we’re not dating anymore, he doesn’t get access to the cookie stash.”

Tim stared at her. He’d known firefighters were dumb, but he hadn’t realized Emmett was _that_ stupid. “If he let you go, he doesn’t deserve the cookies.”

Her expression eased. “Not his fault, really. We’re just two people with very busy careers.” She shrugged a little. “By the end, it was too hard for us to find time for each other.”

Tim went absolutely still, thinking about all the time she somehow managed to find for him. Then he carefully locked that thought up in a box, burying it deep in the far corner of his head where it couldn’t get him into trouble. It didn’t _mean_ anything, except that Lucy Chen was an amazing friend and Emmett was an idiot of the highest order for not being happy with anything she had to give.

He let out a breath, then smiled at her. “If I promise not to fight you for the Samoas, can I have one of those boxes of Tagalongs?”

She beamed at him again, and somehow the whole world was brighter for it. “I think I could manage that.”


	3. Chapter 3

"Lucy." Jackson's expression was kind, but there was a finality to it that brooked no argument. "You're dating him."

"I am _not_ ," Lucy said fiercely, trying hard to pretend her voice hadn't gone thick on that last word. She pushed herself up from the couch where they'd both been sitting, needing more defensible ground. This wasn't a discussion she'd been prepared for, damn it. "Because for two people to be dating, both participants have to consider the relationship romantic. Tim and I are just friends."

And it was absolutely normal and healthy to love your friends. If she got a little intense about it... well, she was an intense person. She didn't have to worry about someone (Tim, always Tim) figuring her out, because there was a perfectly rational explanation for all of it.

Jackson gave her a "you've got to be kidding me" look. "Lucy, you and I are friends. Good ones. And our relationship is _nothing_ like the thing you have going with Tim. Which, if it's not romantic, is actually a step or two past romantic and into those period dramas where they spend 20 minutes on a really intense hand touch."

She blew out an exasperated breath. "I don't even know what that means."

"It means you _broke up with your boyfriend_ because he wanted you to spend less time with Tim and more time with him. It means that you two look at each other sometimes in a way that makes it weirdly uncomfortable to even be in the room with you." His expression gentled. "It means that anyone with eyes can see how happy the two of you are when you're with each other. He's not your T.O. anymore, Luce."

"Bishop said I'd be branded for dating another cop." It wasn't an argument, but it would sound like one to Jackson. "Even if we weren't breaking the rules, it would follow me no matter how good I was at my job."

It _should_ have been an argument, Lucy knew. It had been the ultimate argument when she was dating Nolan, and she'd never once regretted breaking things off with him for the sake of her career. And with her former T.O., the branding would only be stronger.

Jackson's expression turned solemn. "And I'm dating an actor, which means that I'm eventually going to have to decide whether keeping my career options open is more important than being with him." His face softened again. "Which means we both know that's not the reason."

Lucy's chest tightened. She'd already pushed so much, when it came to Tim. She was always doing that, charging forward into situations so _sure_ she was doing the right thing. So sure she wanted whatever was on the other side that she was willing to accept whatever consequences came her way. Whether it was months of pushups, making her father mad or ending her romantic relationship with Nolan, it had all been acceptable collateral damage.

And Jackson was right – being with Tim would be more than worth a little professional trouble. But those were far from the only potential consequences of telling him how she felt, and for once in her life those consequences were more than she could handle. No matter how much she wanted what was on the other side, there were some things she couldn't stand to lose.

She let out a shaky breath. "You're right – that's not why I'm not dating Tim." Emotion thickened her voice, and this time she didn't try to pretend it wasn't there. "I'm not dating Tim because if I tried to ask him, he would immediately shut down. I don't think he'd yell at me at this point, but we'd have an _incredibly_ painful discussion about professionalism that would be his version of a no. What we _wouldn't_ talk about is how guilty he would feel that he had somehow 'led me on.' The visits would end, the conversations would get awkward, and soon they'd stop completely, too." She swallowed, eyes filling. "I'm less scared that I might get shot."

Jackson just stared at her for a moment. "You really think that's what would happen?" he asked quietly.

She swiped at the tears sliding down her cheeks. "My luck with Tim has to run out at some point." Her voice cracked. "I wasn't supposed to have any of this."

After a silent moment, he stood up and wrapped her in a tight hug. "Maybe he feels that way, too."

She squeezed her eyes shut, hugging him back. "I wish I could believe that."

000

The second Lucy showed up at the door that night, Tim knew something was wrong. Her mouth was smiling but her eyes were wounded, and he immediately wanted to kill whatever bastard had put that look on her face. Even Kojo's enthusiastic greeting wasn't enough to put some of the light back in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

She looked startled at that, like she'd somehow missed the fact that her emotions always shone out of her like high beams, then sighed. "I knew I should have cancelled," she muttered, seemingly to herself, then shook her head. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Not what I asked." He pointed her towards the TV room, the gesture more of an order than it was a request, and went to get them both beers. When he came back, she was tucked up into one corner of the sectional with an expression that made it clear she was ready to argue the second he gave her an opening.

Not only was argumentative so much better than wounded, it would end up giving him the information he needed in the long run. So he just sent Kojo out of the room, handed her a beer, then sat down on the opposite corner of the sectional to wait.

It took only a few seconds for Lucy to realize he wasn't planning on contributing to whatever hypothetical argument she'd been gearing up for. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Aren't you the one who spent months trying to get me to _not_ talk about my personal life?"

"One, those were T.O. and rookie rules. We're operating under friend rules now, which means I am actually _required_ to care about your personal life." He took sip of his beer. "Besides, you know full well you broke me of the 'no personal life' rule even when you were still my rookie. Not my fault you now have to accept the consequences."

She sighed, the fight sliding out of her. Tim regretted it instantly, though, because the sadness was back in her eyes. "Yeah, because I pushed you." She looked away, down at the bottle in her hand. "I push too much."

Tim tensed at that, his own eyes narrowing. "Who says?" His mind raced with possibilities and what he could potentially do about any of them. Yeah, Lucy might be a handful, but that was part of what made her so damn good at what she did. Anyone who tried to crush that was going to have to go through him first. "Are you in trouble at work?"

"It's not work." She gave him an exasperated look, but he could already see the affection starting to leak through. "Remember, I said personal life."

She had, hadn't she. Tim's stomach twisted at the thought of her dating someone, or even wanting to date them, but he pushed it aside. "So it's a guy."

She looked caught at that, hesitating for a moment like she was searching for words, then sighed. "It's not his fault," she said finally. "It's me."

"It's him," Tim said flatly. Anyone who couldn't appreciate Lucy for the force of nature she was didn't deserve anything. "And you could _definitely_ do better than whoever this guy is. He's even stupider than Emmett."

She gave him a long look, then raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who called me aggravating."

"And you're the one who realized I meant it as a compliment." He leaned back, searching for words. "Are you perfect? No. No one is. But you've got damn good instincts to go with that big brain of yours, and when you put them together whatever they come up with is usually the right call. As soon as you know what the right call is you jump in and do it, even if it's not the safest choice. It's part of what makes you such a great cop."

She looked touched at that, but not convinced. "Even if that's true at work, that doesn't mean I have the right to steamroll right over people in my personal life." She set her beer down on the small table, radiating distress. "I charge right in without asking if I'm even wanted."

Tim's chest tightened, remembering all the times Lucy had charged her way into places he hadn't thought he wanted anyone. Later, when she'd shouted in his face that she was trying to protect him and a hundred different times after that, he'd finally realized they were all really just places he hadn't thought anyone would ever _want_ to be. Once she'd broken through, filling spaces that had sat empty for so long, he couldn't begin to imagine going back to the way it was before.

He had to clear his throat before he could trust his voice. "Sometimes when you charge in, you save lives." She opened his mouth to argue, but he stopped her with a look. "And no, I don't mean at work."

She looked at him for a moment, expression heavy with something he couldn't read, then shook her head. "You would have figured the whole Isabel thing out on your own," she said finally, far too quiet. "You were just too close to see it clearly."

He let out a breath. At the time, he'd told himself she was sticking her neck out so far because she'd needed a functional T.O. to get the kind of rookie year she needed for her career. He hadn't understood her, then.

But he didn't have the right words to _explain_ that. To make her see that he'd spent his life trying to save people, but he'd never had anyone keep saving him back the way she did. That she probably had no idea how much good she did in the world, just by being herself.

If he tried to put any of that into words, he'd betray himself and lose this forever. But maybe there was a way she could understand without words.

Taking a deep breath, he set his own beer down on the table. Then he pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket, carefully folded and lightly creased from the months he'd been carrying it around, and tossed it to her. "I wasn't talking about the Isabel thing."


	4. Chapter 4

Lucy automatically caught the paper Tim tossed her, not sure where he was going with this. She was sure there was supposed to be deeper meaning, like there had been when he'd shown that she'd helped save herself by giving back her ring, but she couldn't see it.

"I've carried that piece of paper in my right front pocket every day since you gave it to me." She met his eyes, which were so solemn her throat caught. He was clearly bracing himself for something. "When I'm in uniform, it's in my left breast pocket. Just under my badge."

She was so focused on his expression that it took a second for the words he was saying to sink in. When they did, her heart stopped.

No. She had to be misunderstanding him somehow.

Slowly, carefully, she unfolded the note. Her hands started to tremble when she saw her name, written in her own neat handwriting, with her cell phone number just underneath. The paper that had given him a number he'd already had, wrapped in a hope she'd tried so hard to move past in the six months it had taken him to call. Six months where she'd been sure he hadn't thought of her at all.

But he'd been carrying this around with him the whole time. Even when he hadn't called, he'd carefully put a note he hadn't needed in the pocket of his pants every single morning. He'd transferred it to his uniform pocket every single day so she could be with him while he was at work. She'd been in his thoughts _the whole time_ , even when he hadn't said a word.

"Keep pushing." Tim broke the silence, his voice rough. "Sometimes it means more to people than they'll ever be able to tell you."

She looked up at him, cheeks wet from the tears streaming down her face. He looked like he had the night he told her about Mitch losing his leg, like he'd just revealed his deepest secret and was waiting to be punished for it. She hadn't even asked him for the secret this time. He'd just known what she needed to hear, so he handed the truth over even though he was clearly sure it was going to hurt.

Staring into his bright blue eyes, she was more sure of what to say next than she had been of anything in her life. "I'm in love with you. I'm so desperately, stupidly, impossibly in love with you I can't breathe with it sometimes."

There was a moment of perfect stillness, brow furrowing like he hadn't quite heard what she'd said. Then his expression cracked open, a fragile sort of shock filling his expression. He looked almost afraid, but she didn't mind. She knew exactly what he was afraid of. "What?" he managed finally, voice breaking a little on that single word.

Setting the paper down on the cushion beside her, she slowly moved to sit next to him. "I'm in love with you," she repeated gently, eyes locked with his. She carefully took his hand in both of hers, heart so full she was amazed it wasn't bursting out of her chest. "I have been for a long time, but I was too scared to say anything. I didn't want to risk what we already had."

She watched him try to process this, something heartbreakingly close to awe in his eyes. "I'm... the guy you were talking about?"

She nodded, grinning at him even as tears streamed down her cheeks. "Regretting calling yourself stupid yet?"

"That was before I had all the facts." His smile flickered as he gently slid his fingertips along the curve of her cheek, but his eyes looked like he was about to cry. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly, voice unsteady. "This is going to make it harder for you at work."

"I know." Her gaze locked with his, radiating every ounce of certainty she felt. "But some things matter more."

He closed his eyes at that, letting out a breath like he'd been punched. A heartbeat later he'd crossed the rest of the distance between them, and the moment his lips touched hers it was like someone had thrown a switch. They both moved at once, Tim pulling her onto his lap as they both fell into a kiss more potent than any alcohol she'd ever tried. It burned the same way, warm and perfect, filling her up and making it feel like she was floating. Tim was the only thing holding her to the earth, and she cradled his head in her hands and held on for dear life.

When they finally broke apart, he wrapped his arms around her even more tightly and buried his face in her neck. "I love you," he breathed.

Heart clenching, she pressed her lips against his hair. "I know," she whispered. "You showed me."

He pulled back again, looking up at her with so much love her eyes filled with tears. Then she leaned down for another kiss, and everything else disappeared but him.

000

The sound of the alarm the next morning seemed particularly cruel.

"Not fair." Lucy groaned, burying her face against his shoulder. "Can't we call in sick? There should be some exception for anyone who had life-changing developments the night before."

The fact that Tim briefly considered it proved just how much of an effect Lucy had on him. "No, we better start practicing," he said finally, rolling them sideways. "Because I plan on waking up with you as many mornings as possible, and for at least most of those we're going to have to go to work."

She grinned at him, suddenly far more alert. "We do have to practice, don't we?" Then her smile turned lazy as she leaned in for a kiss. "Of course, we could also be a little late..."

They weren't late, but only because Tim's alarm was usually set for early and he'd been far too distracted to change it the night before. Still, there wasn't enough time left to risk a joint shower – she was _phenomenally_ good at making him lose focus – so he let her take it first while he took care of Kojo, got the coffee ready, and pulled a box of protein bars out of the cupboard. When _he_ got out of the shower, she was already dressed and had poured coffee into the to-go cup he'd set out for her. "I have to go. I'm not trying to hide you, but these are the clothes I left the station in last night and that is _not_ the kind of razzing I'm prepared to deal with right now. A little pre-planning will make sure I'm in a _much_ better mood when I see you tonight."

Warmth spread through his him as he leaned down to accept the kiss she stretched up to give him. He wanted a thousand mornings like this. A million of them. "You should leave some things here. I have extra drawers."

When she pulled back, she was beaming. "Sounds like a plan." Then, expression softening, she pressed a folded piece of paper into his hand. "Here. I thought it was about time you got an upgraded note."

He opened it, chest squeezing tight at the simple message. "Never forget how much I love you," he read, voice thick with everything he was feeling.

"And that's an order." She stretched upward for another kiss, and this time he tightened his arms around her and let it linger.

Eventually, she was the one who managed to pull away first. "No, bad Tim. Go put on clothes and quit being so tempting."

He grinned, making himself take a step back. "You know me. Just making sure you're training under combat conditions."

"Have I mentioned recently that you're a pain in my ass? Because you most definitely are." Still, she was grinning just as hard as he was. When he handed her the coffee cup she'd nearly forgotten she gave him another quick kiss before continuing her backward walk toward the door. "And don't worry about dinner tonight. I'll swing by that Mexican place you like."

"Sounds like a plan." A sudden sweet pain lanced through his heart as he watched her go, knowing she was going to come back. He was pretty sure he didn't deserve any of this, but he'd be damned if he let her go. "Stay safe out there."

Her expression softened as she paused by the open front door. "You too, Sergeant."

He nodded, throat tight. "And call me, okay? Whenever you get the chance."

As she slipped out the door, she beamed that sunlight smile at him again. "Just try and stop me."

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my [original fiction,](https://jennifferwardell.wixsite.com/mybooks) my [blog,](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


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